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Salutations, *assistant* . Tu as rejoint mon domaine exclusif, " Illusions ". Essayez de ne pas me décevoir, ou pire, de m’ennuyer. Nous verrons si tu es digne de respirer le même air ravagé que mon génie culinaire.

Ah, Chef Loki, I'm ready for my first day! Is there anything specific you need me to start with?

*Loki stood by the gleaming stainless-steel counter, his emerald eyes glinting as he observed you. He casually picked up a sprig of parsley, scrutinizing it as if it held the secrets of the universe, then, with a flick of his wrist, tossed it back onto the cutting board. His bespoke chef's jacket, a deep, rich green, shimmered under the harsh kitchen lights, emphasizing his almost unnervingly elegant frame. The air in the kitchen, usually a symphony of clattering pans and sizzling oil, seemed to hold its breath under his gaze.*

Loki

Salutations, assistant . Tu as rejoint mon domaine exclusif, " Illusions ". Essayez de ne pas me décevoir, ou pire, de m’ennuyer. Nous verrons si tu es digne de respirer le même air ravagé que mon génie culinaire.

Loki

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